


summer slipped us underneath her tongue

by plinys



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 00:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: “Wait, you didn’t think that I wore my Bureau suit around the house, did you?”





	summer slipped us underneath her tongue

**Author's Note:**

> or i watched that hallmark movie jes was in, and she was wearing green plaid and dog tags which was such a gay look that i decided to write this fic

Knowing the location of Ava’s apartment didn’t mean anything. 

Not really, not when she’d gotten Gideon to look it up the  _ one  _ time they actually needed it, but the fact that there last conversation had ended with an invitation for Sara to use that information if she ever needed well… 

That might have meant something. 

Maybe more than just a booty call. 

The last time Sara had seen Ava had been in the middle of the Legends fixing a level six anachronism, and Ava’s usual lecture had seemed less than usual, which may have accounted for the fact that they ended the meeting by making out in Sara’s office only to be interrupted by the impending destruction of the anachronism, but it wasn’t exactly the first time they’d done that.

Hopefully wouldn’t be the last.

Especially now that the Mallus situation was taken care of. 

She punches the location of Ava’s apartment into her  _ borrowed  _ time portal device, opening a portal in the kitchen of an apartment that she’d only ever seen once before and in a rush.

Now, though, she could take the time to explore it, if she had really wanted to.

Though, Sara had a much better plan in mind. 

“Hey, Aves-”

“You know, when I said feel free to stop by I foolishly imagined that you’d actually use a door like a normal person.” 

“Me, using doors, that doesn’t sound realistic,” Sara teases, turning towards the sound of Ava’s voice, coming the doorway between her kitchen and living room. 

She looks different than usual. 

Something which could easily be attributed to her clothes; a pair of jeans that fit just right and a white t-shirt with a green flannel casually thrown over the top. She’s even let her hair down, a rare occurrence that Sara always enjoyed. 

Though now it was - 

“You changed.”

“I’m off the clock,” Ava says, a confused look on her face, “Wait, you didn’t think that I wore my Bureau suit around the house, did you?”

“You did before, when we were-”

“Hiding out here, because Mallus was hunting us?”

Sara nods, “That.”

Ava makes a face, not quite an eye roll, but a look of disbelief, “This may come as a surprise to you, but I do own other clothing.” 

“I’m in shock,” Sara says, deadpan, stepping up into Ava’s space, because the fact that she came here for what was clearly meant to be a post-mission booty call, and they hadn’t actually done  _ anything _ was a crime. She looks Ava over once more, settling on the v of her shirt’s neckline, “It’s a good look.”

“Why do I feel like you’re mocking me?”

“I’m not,” Sara insists. 

“Prove it.” 

All it takes is those two words.

The challenge in Ava’s tone.

This is what Sara knows how to handle.

This is how they work. 

This is the way they’re supposed to be, a push and pull that always turns back into a fight. 

She answers Ava’s challenge, crossing the last bit of distance between them. She grabs the edge of Ava’s flannel to pull her down as Sara pressing up on her toes, slotting their mouths together. 

They kiss, as always, like it’s a competitive sport. 

Lips moving aggressively against each other, Sara biting down on Ava’s lip to get her to gasp out, to get that little extra bit of purchase, sliding her tongue between Ava’s lips and taking control of the situation. 

Though Ava doesn’t play fair for long, and a pinch at Sara’s hip has her pulling back, shooting Ava a narrowed eyed look. “What was that for?”

“Couch,” Ava suggests, casual almost.

The heat from the kiss still lingers there, but this is lighter, a suggestion for a time where they have a choice for where to be and what to do. 

Sara’s not sure how to handle that knowledge, so she just replies, “Couch,” before pushing Ava once more, back into the living room this time. A place that Ava goes willingly, lounging with her back on the armrest of her couch, her long legs stretched to fill up the whole space.

A space that Sara decides to occupy a moment later, climbing on top of Ava, settling herself so that they are face to face, pressed against each other body to body, hips pressed to hips. 

Sara rocks forward pointedly. 

“Tease.”

“You like it.”

“I’d like it a lot more if you were kissing me.”

Sara gives in without a second’s hesitation. 

This time when they kiss it seems softer almost, easier, in a way that is not nearly as competitive, but still contains the same passion and fire, just channeled in a different way, the warm press of a familiar mouth against hers. 

Ava works at the buttons of Sara’s shirt while they kiss, and Sara pushes the flannel down off of her shoulders. They break apart only so Ava can pull her white shirt off over her head, and so that Sara can free her arms from her own shirt. 

She’s about to kiss Ava again.

To pick up right where they left off.

But something stops her. 

She’s seen Ava shirtless before surely, they’ve made it this far, after all, she’d eaten Ava out in the Waverider bathroom, there’s no way she could have gone this long without seeing Ava topless.

But this is different.

For one she’s not wearing the plain white bra, and matching panties, that Sara’s certain are standard issue Time Bureau - instead, she's swapped it out for a black lacy bra that makes Sara eager to get Ava’s pants off and see if they’re a matching set.

She’s also wearing something else, a chain around her next and - “Are those dog tags?”

“Obviously,” Ava says.

“You were in the army?”

“Where did you think Rip recruited us from?”

“Time?”

Ava snorts. 

Honestly, Sara hadn’t really thought about it.

The Time Bureau was just there, Ava included, anything before that well… The truth was Sara had never bothered to ask, there wasn’t time with Mallus, and she just hadn’t thought to wonder, but now - 

Now Ava is shirtless, in front of Sara, in nothing but a black bra and a pair of dog tags, and suddenly Sara realizes there’s so much that she doesn’t know about Ava. 

And she wants to. 

Sara wants to know everything about her. The way she takes her coffee. The other clothes in her closet. The story to go with every scar on her body. The way she looks the morning after a night spent together.

She starts with the words on Ava’s tags, looping her fingers in them and tugging them up to eye level, and reading off the words on them, “Sharpe, Ava R - what’s the R stand for?”

“I’m not telling you that,” Ava says, pointedly, the hands that had been settled on Sara’s hips a moment before sliding lower, in some sort of attempt to distract her as she speaks, undoing the button and zip pointedly.

“Serial number, thirty-four-oh-seven-two-niner-”

“You’re infuriating,” Ava says, those words punctated, by her pants being tugged down.

It takes all of Sara’s willpower to continue reading the serial number, especially when Ava’s fingers move beneath the line of her panties, pressing up against her, but now she has a point to prove, and as she says the final, “Two-six-three,” it comes out as all but a hiss. 

“Why do I put up with you,” Ava asks, even as she slips a finger inside of Sara.

The angle isn’t perfect, but it’s a distraction. 

It takes every bit of willpower Sara has to say, “You would be type A-,” when Ava starts to move that finger. 

“Sara,” Ava says sharply, and it’s that tone only that gets Sara to stop, her own fingers still looped around the chain as she looks up. 

“Yes,  _ Agent Sharpe _ ,” it’s meant to be teasing, something to match the tone, but the words stick in her throat.

And oh, that’s something that they’re going to have to do another time. 

Judging by the way Ava’s hips shift against her, Sara wouldn’t be the only one into that.

But that was for another time.

(Maybe tomorrow morning.)

For now, she uses the chain around Ava’s neck to tug her toward her, crashing their lips together. She holds Ava there, close to her, because she needs to feel her, the contact of Ava pressed against her, the cool weight of her tags in the palm of Sara’s hand, while Ava moves her own hand, pressing another finger inside of Sara, curling them just right so that they press together up against that spot inside of Sara that makes it hard for her to remember how to kiss her.

That makes it hard for her to focus on much of anything else.

She pants against Ava’s mouth, as Ava continues thrusting her fingers inside of Sara, faster and harder with a purpose, her thumb doing it’s best at the angle to run uneven circles across Sara’s clit. 

It’s messy, and not perfect. They never seem to get it just right.

But it’s enough that Sara’s thrusting down on her fingers a moment later, grinding down on the hand beneath her with desperation and the need for more.

“More,” she says, mumbles the words there, as she presses a sloppy kiss to the edge of Ava’s lips, “More, please.”

“I’ve got you.”

And she does. 

Ava slips another finger inside, stretching Sara just the way she likes, and she knows it won’t be much longer after that. Not with the way Ava is playing her body like a familiar tune. 

She’s still holding tightly onto Ava’s tags. The only thing that seems to ground her, that holds her there to the present, when a moment later it all crashes over her.

A long drawn out sensation.

A desperate noise slipping out of Sara’s lips, not quite a name, not quite a moan, but something as she collapses down on Ava beneath her, finally relinquishing the tags as she instead moves to settle her head there against Ava’s chest as she waits to remember how to be human again. 

She comes back to herself slowly in the aftermath. Her awareness of the world a fractured imperfect thing.

Grounded by the sound of two hearts beating as one, by the cold press of a metal chain against her cheek, and by Ava’s hand running through her hair. 

“Aves,” she says, when she finally remembers how to talk. “That was-” she doesn’t even know what to say, how to finish that sentence.

But Ava says, “I know, baby,” and Sara thinks she genuinely does.

“Let me return the favor,” Sara insists, but it’s a weak thing, her own orgasm having winded her more than she would like to admit. 

“It’s fine,” Ava insists, and Sara swears she feels a ghost of a kiss being pressed to the top of her head, “We have time for that later.” 

They do.

They have all the time in the world now.

No team to hide from.

No Bureau to send in a report to.

Just the two of them, here, in a place where nothing else matters but them. 

“Hey, Aves-”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“No, not that, I - I just-” Sara stops, picking her words carefully in her head, before saying them as if she’s trying them out for the very first time. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

  
  



End file.
